Something I Should've Written A Long Time Ago.

This is a post I put on myspace a few days ago.. decided to put it here.
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So... If you read this, you deserve 5,000 Chuck Norris pancakes.

I seem to love starting blogs or posts, or whatever, with "so". I have no idea why that is, but it seems to be quite the familiar pattern with me! lol.

WARNING: You will see the word "realize" in this post MANY, MANY TIMES.

Anywho-- on with this. I'll tell you right now that almost no one will read this because of how long it is, or its content, and the ones who will, won't comment, because they're either afraid, or honestly won't know what to say. They might even think I'm weirder than usual. lol. I don't blame them, but I'd probably react differently. I have no idea where I may go with this, but I know where I want to start, so I'm gonna give it a shot.
Today, I saw a movie. Well, actually, a few movies. If you're burning with questions as to what these movies were, I'll tell you. "Madea Goes To Jail", "Once", and "Knowing".

As is quite apparent, all these movies are COMPLETELY different, and while Madea IS hysterical, by that meaning, I wish she was my angry black grandma.. the other 2 movies hit me a little more deeply.

Once is a really beautiful movie.. it is very realistic.. almost raw. The music is beautiful and awfully inspiring. And it basically taught me that.. reality really is better than movies. Being as realistic as it was, I kind of craved some adventure from it. Real life stuff. I mean, we all love movies, and sometimes wish we were in that little frame on the screen, but in all REALITY.. Life is more interesting and unexpected.

Knowing. Well.. I know some people loved it, some hated it, but I thought it was interestingly good. It was sort of biblical, but not.. really. Just took some things it wanted out of the whole "Scary Apocalypse" thing and ya know.. went from there. But, it made me think alot about the past and future.. so hold on to your seats, cause this might get sort of REALLY SCARY! (lol)

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I remembered something from a really long time back. I remembered I had a xanga from like, 6th grade to 8th grade or so. At that time, I wrote, like, a whollllle loootta crap about alot of funny random things during school (that made me laugh alot now, like Anthony Thornton "not liking girls", Operation Aware AWKWARDNESS, Nicole and my's interesting and quirky convos in Language Arts class, lunch time jabs.. etc, lol) that I forgot. And then I wrote some important things. I went through from the very beginning, which started from 2005-ish. And for some reason, I was drawn to read it.. all of it.

I realized a whole lot of things that I think I knew in the very back of my mind, but kept pushing further back. Who knows why. Probably because I felt kind of weird about them and didn't know what to do.

I realized I was a few things, other than RADICALLY different to how I am now, and noticed things I did differently:
- I didn't use commas much, and when I did, I used them, like, ALOT. lol.
- I observed things more, and wrote down those things much more and in more detail.
- I had more friends and a heckuva lot wider spectrum of friends.
- I was more openly religious, wish is true to how I really am.
- I didn't realize at the time how important those little things I wrote would help me see things now.

There was a particular post I made that, every so often, I would find myself wanting to go back and read. Even though this is true, I've only done this maybe.. once or twice. Well, I went back to find that particular post today, and it was interesting. It also wasn't how I recalled.

This post was about a dream I had one day in 6th grade, ish.

I remember that I had dreamt this really crazy, vivid dream. And unlike anything else I'd ever dreamt before, because I STILL, to this day, can picture little parts of it. And I recalled it almost perfectly when I wrote it all down.
I'm one of those people that has a hard time talking to others what I'm thinking, but words don't fail me nearly as much when I'm writing. Hence why I write so darn much. But right after I woke up from this dream, I told my mom and my brother what I thought it was about. I'm also one of those people who find, what others might consider "wacko" (lol), meanings from dreams. But I totally believe what I think they mean.

So this dream was basically what I considered a God dream. Yeah, we're in the God Zone. Lol. Make your religious jokes. "Oh Erin, you must be some Old Testament prophet. I haven't seen you around in a while!" lol. But really, I'm not kiddin' here. It basically was this: I had been playin' around in my house.. doin' random stuff with hula hoops, yeah seriously HULA hoops, I'm cool. And um, yeah. Then I got some mail, and my mom was like, Yo Erin.. ok, she didn't say that, but she said my name.. and said, "you got some mail." So I went over, and it was a letter from my Language Arts Teacher of the time, Mrs. Poindexter. She had sent me some mail seeing how I was doing, and congratulating me on my grades, whatnot. And then this part, I really remember, almost like it was yesterday. She had this envelope. It had a journal that I recognized at the time, because it was one I bought and used with my friends to talk in during school. We wrote buttloads in it. And it had a note on it, that said, "I know someday, God will do something great for you."

Ok, so this is heavy stuff, amiright? Yeah, everyone's probably gonna leave right about NOW, if you even trudged your way through half this shiz! lol. So you're like, wow, Erin centered a lifelong blog around this stupid, meaningless dream. Well, all I can say is.. you are not me, my friend.

To anyone else, this probably means nothing. It probably would to me too, if I wasn't me. But I pretty much interpreted this dream into some crazy intricate WEB of.. insanity. lol. I had wrote out all these very true, symbolic meanings of everything, at the time. I'm just weird like that, and kind of OCD. lol. I thought, honestly and truthfully, this meant that I was going to be "healed" or whatever, and that I was to use it as a testimony for my friends and other people to realize... things about.. well, God. And maybe that might not even be what it was supposed to mean, but it gave me some hope at least to feel more than how I had been feeling. Maybe I was supposed to write something of importance to translate things to other people that I couldn't in spoken word. And I'd always loved to write and keep journals, tell stories, write random stuff. So I wrote.

See, all these things had meaning at the time. It was a really pivotal point in my life, and you might just think all this dream stuff was imagination and events, just clouded and exploded into one GIGANTIC weirdo "God" dream.

That's simply not true, though.


From that point on, my life changed, alot. At the time, I was struggling alot with myself and self-consciousness about myself, you know, just like everyone else. However, other stuff had always caused that. I went from either feeling like I was nothing, to feeling like I had some mission. I always had mostly liked who I was on the inside, because I felt like I had things to offer and help people with. And I've always liked to help people, especially now. But I was, simply put, born with a disease. A muscular degenerative disease, along with many other things, like skeletal problems, and feet issues to where I can't walk or run normal. It's a muscular disease that, supposedly, very few people have, called Myofibrillar Myopathy, and for basically all my life, I wanted to know what it was, and get a cure, fast. I was so sick of this thing, because it'd burdened me all my life. People saw me, and still see me, differently because of it. I was absolutely positive, once I got this cure, I'd be a "better" me and everyone would like me, I'd be normal, and la dee fri-kken da. But things don't work out that way, and there is no cure. I'm just supposed to sit here and wait 'til there is one, or try and hang on to some hope it'll go away, somehow.


Pretty bleak, right?

And this is where the dream comes in.

You honestly have no idea how much it changed how I saw things. It's kind of like, you look back on life, and there's those few, honest to goodness, milestones, that completely change what you do and why you do it. And that was one.

I was one of four kids that had absolutely no athletic ability, while the other 3 were soccer junkies and well-rounded individuals. My mom was a great gymnast. My dad a great baseball player, among other things. I was kind of the "different" one, and I guess that lead me, and even others in my family, to believe I was supposed to make up for all this stuff that had disappeared from my life, that was previously placed in theirs, with something different and important. I had a mission now, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do.

Well, 2 surgeries later, poking and prodding, especially since 6th grade, 6 hour trips to a hospital out of state every so often, and multiple states of wandering aimlessly ON this road.. I'm back on the road, and I still feel like God's not done with me. Maybe I am important, and maybe, for once, I'm allowed to think so. And not in a way that my head will explode from the self-importance or self-centeredness, just, in a way that I have a purpose. That I am a tool for something, and that I'm this way for a reason.

So next time you question why someone believes this God, or prays to this God, or has faith in this God, or whatever He is to you- I hope you remember all these things.



And basically, I have no idea why I wrote 90% of my life story on here. lol.

But like Tom Petty said, "it'll all work out". That is, if you want it to.